


Double-Blind

by dogpoet



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Drugs, Handcuffs, Humor, M/M, Silly, questionable scientific method
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-17
Updated: 2011-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-23 19:50:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogpoet/pseuds/dogpoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To test a suspect’s alibi, Grissom gives Greg an aphrodisiac.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double-Blind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fromward (from)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/from/gifts).



The minute Grissom walked into the lab, Greg knew something was up. Gris had that face on. The face he’d had just before Greg ended up with fungus growing on his foot. It was the experiment face.

“Oh, no,” Greg muttered.

Grissom looked at Greg over the top of his glasses. “What’s that, Greg?”

“Nothing.”

“Do me a favor: take this pill.” Grissom handed Greg a white tablet.

Greg felt a tingle in his palm when Grissom’s fingers touched him, letting go of the pill. It was pointless to ask, but he did anyway. “What is it?”

“One of our suspects says he couldn’t have committed murder because he was on this drug. I’m testing his alibi.”

That smug smile. Grissom knew Greg wouldn’t refuse. “Is it going to knock me out for 24 hours or something?”

“No. That would keep you from working.” Grissom waited, watching.

“What, then?”

“I can’t tell you. That would bias the results.”

God dammit. Greg sighed. Grissom was like one of those girls who knew you liked her so she asked you for all kinds of shit, like rides home and free drinks. The bastard fucking knew. And he was just standing there waiting.

“Can you promise me there’s no fungus?”

“I promise no harm will come to you.”

Grissom’s eyes glittered as Greg raised the pill to his lips and slipped it into his mouth.

“Thank you. I’ll check back in a few hours.” He turned to leave the lab.

Greg considered spitting out the pill, but if this really was an experiment, he’d be fucking up Grissom’s results. He hesitated. ‘No harm’ was ambiguous. Grissom probably hadn’t thought the fungus was harmful either. Greg spit the pill into his hand, his mouth puckering from the bitterness. He put the pill in a petri dish, and went to find Sara.

It was his lucky day. Sara was striding down the hall, on her way somewhere. Greg grabbed her arm, steering her toward the lab.

“Hey, are you working that case with Grissom?”

“Greg. We talked about the pawing.”

“I’m not pawing. Listen, what’s the suspect’s alibi?” Greg kept one eye out for Grissom, looking over Sara’s shoulder.

Sara grinned. “Let me guess, you want some of what he was on.”

“What?”

“Aphrodisiacs are the last thing you need, my friend.” Sara tapped Greg with the file folder she was holding. “Sorry.”

“Aphrodisiacs?”

“Our suspect? Says he couldn’t’ve killed his brother because he took this drug and had a raging boner all weekend, and he was busy doing the naked pretzel with his wife.”

A raging boner? Grissom had given him some kind of Viagra? Well, two could play this game. Grissom didn’t need to know Greg had spit out the pill. Thinking fast, Greg said: “Is that what he gave me?” He put on his best horrified expression.

“What?” Sara said, brow wrinkling.

“Grissom. He just — oh, Sara….” Greg draped himself on her.

“Ew. Get off me. Greg!”

Greg nuzzled her neck. She gave him a shove.

“What. The fuck. Unless you want me to knee you in the balls —”

“Grissom drugged me,” Greg said, nearing Sara again.

“Like hell he did. Come on.” She yanked Greg down the corridor.

Damn, she was strong. It was a little scary that she wanted to knee him in the balls. Grissom would never knee him in the balls. Would he?

“Grissom,” Sara said at the door to Grissom’s office. “What the hell did you do to Greg?”

Grissom sat at his desk, working. He looked up at them.

“Mmm,” Greg said again, trying to get close to Sara.

“Ugh.”

Greg went sprawling when she stepped away suddenly. That was okay because Sara was nice, but Greg’s real goal was the man behind the desk.

Grissom’s eyes lit up, and he stood. “Ah, it’s working.”

“You did this to him?”

Greg latched on to Grissom, arms wrapping around him. “You smell good. God.” He ground his pelvis into Grissom’s side. Too much? At least Grissom wasn’t kneeing his jewels.

Sara backed away, hands raised, as if in surrender. “Whatever you did, you take care of it. Just keep him away from me or I can’t be held responsible for my actions.” She turned around and left Grissom’s office in a hurry.

Did Grissom know he was faking? Greg could feel his heart pounding as he sucked a sweet spot on Grissom’s neck.

“Greg. Greg!”

“Yeah?” Greg stopped what he was doing, just for a second.

“I’m taking you home.”

“My home or yours?” Greg said, waggling his eyebrows at Grissom while at the same time grabbing a handful of his shirt. He was going to milk this for all it was worth. Not only did Grissom totally deserve it, but this might be the only time Greg could ever get away with feeling up his boss.

“Which would you prefer?” Grissom asked, serious.

“Yours,” Greg whispered in Grissom’s ear before biting the lobe.

Grissom took Greg’s arm and led him out of his office. They ran into Warrick in the corridor — didn’t people have crime scenes to visit? — but Grissom just said, “Medical emergency. Call me if you need me.”

“What —” Warrick stared at them in confusion. “A _medical_ emergency?”

~*~

In the parking lot, Grissom unlocked his car, then guided Greg into the passenger seat. Suddenly, he whipped out a pair of handcuffs. Yes!

“Are those for me?” Greg asked. He wasn’t sure exactly how horny he was supposed to be acting. He probably should have grilled Sara some more before going ahead with what he now saw was an _insane_ plan.

Grissom snapped one cuff onto Greg’s right wrist, and the other onto the inside handle of the door.

“Don’t you want to wait until we’re in bed?”

Instead of answering, Grissom shut the door in Greg’s face, and circled around to the other side of the car. He got in, then took a moment to put his glasses in the glove compartment.

“The handcuffs are to keep you from distracting me while I’m driving.” Grissom turned the key in the ignition, backed out of the parking space, and pulled out onto the street.

“Kinky,” Greg said. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Grissom just gave him a look.

“I’m hot. Can we turn on the AC?” With his free hand, Greg fiddled with the dials and buttons on the dashboard. How long was it to Gris’s apartment? He couldn’t remember ever having been there. There was a shit lot he didn’t know about Grissom, actually. Including how he’d respond to his subordinate trying to hump his leg. But damn the torpedos. How often did you get to blame your behavior on drugs? This whole thing was Grissom’s fault, in theory. “How much longer? I think I need a — a shower. Something. Fuck.” Greg lifted his hips up from the seat. Just thinking about being horny was making him horny. It didn’t help that he was handcuffed. An image of being naked in Grissom’s bed and handcuffed to the headboard sprang to his mind. And that was just —

By the time they got to the condo, Greg’s wrist was bruised and abraded from yanking on the cuffs. He had to make this shit seem real, otherwise Grissom was never going to fall for it. Greg wasn’t exactly sure what he intended to do once they got inside the door, but he was going to do something.

Grissom parked, got out of the car, opened Greg’s door, and uncuffed him. Greg immediately leapt up and threw himself at Grissom, planting open-mouthed kisses on his neck. Somehow, the mouth seemed too personal, and Greg couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. Chickenshit, that’s what he was.

Greg was taken aback when Grissom held him still, pressed their cheeks together, and said in a low voice right in Greg’s ear: “Keep it in check until we get inside. Can you do that?”

Grissom’s hands rubbed Greg’s back as if making promises, then let go.

Holy crap. Greg took a step back, wondering if Grissom was bullshitting him. But Grissom looked totally serious. He raised his eyebrows slightly before turning away, shutting the car door, and engaging the locks. Together, he and Greg walked silently to the elevator.

Greg could feel his heart pounding so hard it was making his whole body sway. He leaned against the wall of the elevator, the rail digging into his ass.

“Feeling all right?” Grissom asked.

“A little lightheaded,” Greg said truthfully. “Must be the drugs.”

Grissom didn’t say anything, just faced forward, looking at the light as it passed each floor. With a ding, the doors slid open. Greg followed Grissom down the hushed, carpeted corridor to his apartment.

As Grissom unlocked the door, the sound of jingling came from within, growing louder, and a boxer snuffled and danced in front of them when they got inside.

“This is Hank,” Grissom said.

Hank stretched, then shook, then tried to nose Greg’s crotch. Greg pushed his head away.

“I need to take him out. I’ll just be a minute.”

“If I don’t have sex right now I’m going to die.”

“Somehow, I doubt that, Greg.”

“You don’t know what’s in that drug!”

There was something unfamiliar in Grissom’s eyes. Something a little feral and wild. It hit Greg all at once: lust. Greg surged forward and pressed his mouth to Grissom’s. Their tongues met without preamble, and Greg let his hands wander over Grissom’s chest and side, then behind to grab a handful of ass.

Grissom pulled away. “Make yourself at home,” he said, sliding a leash from the hook by the door and clipping it to Hank’s collar. “I’ll be right back.”

Greg watched, dumbfounded, as Grissom led Hank out into the corridor and closed the door. It was going to happen. He’d been harboring a boner for Grissom for years, and he was finally going to get him in bed. It was fucking crazy and a little scary, truth be told.

The apartment was orderly, less cluttered than Grissom’s office. Greg toed off his shoes, then wandered into the living room, stripping as he went: shirt, then belt, then pants. He liked to snoop through people’s books, but there would be time for that later. What he needed was the bedroom. The first room he came to was clearly a home office. Greg peeked in, then continued on.

Ah. There.

He was disappointed to note that the headboard was solid wood, not bars. No handcuffs, then. Damn. Maybe just his hands cuffed together? With that image firmly in his mind, Greg pushed his boxers down over his hips, left them on the floor, peeled off his socks, and flopped carelessly onto the bed. He moved his arms and legs, like he was making a snow angel, feeling the texture of the bedspread. Grissom’s bed. He ran light fingers over his nipples, over his soft cock. Closed his eyes. Maybe that pill had been really strong, and even the tiny bit he’d swallowed had brought him to this level of horniness and need.

Grissom should’ve taken some, too, even if, judging by the look he’d had a few minutes before, he didn’t need it.

Greg heard the soft sound of the apartment door closing. The jingling of Hank’s collar. Running water. No sound of footsteps — Grissom was light on his feet, and he appeared without warning in the doorway to the bedroom. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

Without sitting up, Greg turned his head to look at Grissom. Grissom looked back for several long seconds. Then it was like a retractable cord connected them and was reeling Grissom in. Grissom neared, never once taking his eyes off Greg. Greg felt pinned, a specimen on a slide, the sole object of Grissom’s focus and attention.

Grissom stopped at the edge of the bed.

The brief hesitation was more than Greg could take. He sat up, got on his knees, and closed the distance. Standing up, he was an inch or two taller than Grissom, but being on his knees on the bed made him even taller, so he had to tilt his head downward for a kiss. Grissom opened his mouth hungrily, his tongue lashing at Greg’s, his hands finding their way down Greg’s back to his ass, grabbing and squeezing in a way that shot straight to Greg’s dick.

“Fuck,” Greg muttered, and that was all he had time to say before he was being pushed onto his back.

Grissom took hold of both of Greg’s legs and yanked him toward the edge of the bed before kneeling to study Greg’s cock and his balls, pushing his thighs wider apart with impatient hands.

In all the times Greg had pictured hooking up with Grissom, he’d been the one to go down on his knees first. He’d been the one to shove Grissom up against the wall and suck him. But in real life, Grissom acted like he’d been wanting to blow Greg for months. He nosed at the sensitive skin covering the groin muscle, then moved over to Greg’s balls, which he kissed, open-mouthed and so enthusiastically, it almost hurt. That fine line between pleasure and pain. It was hot as fuck.

“What about the handcuffs?” Greg panted, arching his back helplessly.

Without a word, Grissom produced them from somewhere and tossed them onto the bed. But he ignored the handcuffs, at least for the time being, and focussed on sucking the head of Greg’s cock. His tongue was aggressive and fast, and the sensations were almost too much. Greg reached down to grasp the base of his shaft with two fingers and his thumb, steadying himself. In response, Grissom licked down the length, then took Greg’s fingers into his mouth, and bit. Bit hard.

Jesus. Jesus fuck.

Greg hooked his fingers on Grissom’s teeth and didn’t let go. Grissom relented and began sucking on the two fingers, licking the injured skin. Then he let them slip out of his mouth. He climbed onto the bed, straddling Greg, still fully dressed, leaned close, holding his weight on his elbows, and pressed his chest to Greg’s chest, fabric to bare skin. It made Greg’s nipples tingle. Greg’s cock rubbed against the front of Grissom’s pants, pulsing with the faint precursors of orgasm.

Grissom smelled really fucking good. Greg took a deep breath of him, trying to rein in his desire. He’d been close to coming, and now his blood was at a slow boil, kept that way by the tease of Grissom’s clothed body against his naked one.

“Are you going to fuck me?” Greg managed to say.

“Do you want me to?”

Greg licked his lips, suddenly thirsty.

“I don’t have to,” Grissom said gently. He kissed Greg, soft touches of his lips at the corner of Greg’s mouth, his cheek, his temple.

Handcuffs and biting? Hot. Having Grissom Jekyll and Hyde, and turn sweet all of a sudden? Even hotter.

“Yeah, I want you to.”

That look was back on Grissom’s face. The look that made Greg feel like a hunter’s prey.

“Good.” Grissom reached for the handcuffs. “Get on your hands and knees.” He moved out of the way so that Greg could obey the order. “In front or behind?”

“What?”

Grissom held up the handcuffs in answer.

Greg’s already racing pulse sped up. If he was on his hands and knees… Cuffed in the front, he still wouldn’t be able to touch himself. That was what Grissom wanted, he was sure. Behind, he’d have his face in the pillow, and he wouldn’t be able to get up easily. “Front,” he said.

Grissom snapped the cuffs on.

Greg sat up, scrambling a bit to get onto his elbows and knees, his hands out in front of him. He spread his legs and looked over his shoulder. Grissom was watching his every move. He stroked a hand lightly down Greg’s back, letting his fingers rest on what Greg knew was a large mole on his left butt cheek.

“‘Your cheeks are comely with ornaments’,” Grissom said.

“Comely, huh?”

Grissom raised an eyebrow, and gave Greg’s butt a light smack, before standing up and walking toward the bathroom. He reappeared a few seconds later, lube and a condom in his hand. He was still fully dressed. Greg wondered, briefly, if Grissom was going to fuck him like that.

As if he knew what Greg was thinking, Grissom began to unbutton his shirt. Greg watched as Grissom’s chest was revealed to him: dusky nipples and a faint spread of hair. Greg was very aware of his blood coursing through him, his cock bobbing excitedly. This was pretty much the craziest thing he’d done since college. Maybe ever. He was watching Grissom shed his pants, for fuck’s sake. He was watching the boxers hit the floor. And he was staring at Grissom’s dick, which he’d pictured a million times. It wasn’t any longer than average. Maybe thicker, the head swollen and weeping with desire. For him. Fuck.

Placing one knee on the bed, Grissom leaned close to Greg. “Do I still make you nervous?”

“You’re kidding me, right? It’s a miracle I haven’t had a fucking coronary.”

The left corner of Grissom’s mouth turned up. “It’s all in your mind, Greg. I’m not judging you.”

There might have been a good reply to that, but Greg couldn’t think of it. Grissom’s hands smoothed down his back again. Fingers parted the cheeks of his ass. The first touch to his asshole made him buckle in something like agony, at the same time as he pushed himself toward Grissom in pleasure.

“‘O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the covert of the cliff, let me see your face, let me hear your voice.’” Grissom draped his body over Greg’s, chest to back, mouth to neck, cock seeking, bumping into tender skin and darkness.

Greg couldn’t breathe. He had no idea what Grissom was saying. It was probably Shakespeare.

Slick fingers traced up and down the crack of his ass. It was torture. Until the fingers pressed inside him, startling and sudden, thicker than expected. And his breath came back in uncontrolled gasps. His stomach tensed. It had been ages since he’d done this. He’d forgotten…

“Easy,” Grissom murmured, letting his fingers continue their play, in and out, tracing the cleft again, brushing against Greg’s balls.

Then Grissom was gone, and Greg’s back felt cool and exposed. He bowed his head, looking to the side, so he could watch Grissom roll the condom on, quick and efficient. Their eyes met for an instant before Grissom broke the connection, centering himself behind Greg.

There was some discomfort bordering on pain at first, and Greg tried to relax. Grissom pressed close along the length of Greg’s back, keeping tight control over his movements, sliding in slowly before withdrawing again, not letting himself hit bottom. Greg felt like he was covered in Grissom, surrounded by him, filled with him. Almost half the surface area of their bodies had to be in contact in this position. He ached to touch himself, but the cuffs prevented him.

“Touch me,” he begged, and to his surprise, Grissom complied, wrapping warm fingers around his cock, which had gone soft from the shock of having someone inside him.

Grissom stroked Greg firmly but gently as he continued to fuck him, pulling out almost all the way, then going in only a couple of inches, teasing all the nerve endings with the flared head of his cock. Greg had pictured lots of different sex with Grissom, but this had always been the same: his laser focus and the way he did things so methodically, his brilliant mind telling his skilled fingers what to do, telling them to twist this way and that way, bringing Greg to the brink of orgasm before backing off.

When Grissom thrust deeper, Greg cried out, panting, painfully close to coming, pulling at the cuffs, trying uselessly to free his hands. Grissom let go of Greg’s cock, clutching his hips instead. That careful control was gone, replaced with something messy and hard and desperate, his body bruising Greg’s every time they made contact. Something deep inside Greg ached, like a band stretched taut, near to breaking, and Grissom thrust one more time before draping himself over Greg’s back again, kissing his shoulder, breathing erratic and damp against Greg’s skin. He remained that way for a few seconds that felt like whole minutes.

Instead of pulling out, Grissom took hold of Greg’s hips, keeping him close, as he sat back on his heels. Greg straightened up, sitting in Grissom’s lap. Grissom’s arms encircled him.

“You do it,” Grissom said, his chin resting on Greg’s shoulder.

No longer forced to support his own weight, Greg’s hands were free to grab his cock. His movements were impeded by the cuffs, but he began to jerk himself off, conscious that Grissom was watching. It only took a few strokes before he was coming, eyes squeezed shut, lungs fighting for air.

His whole body vibrating with the intensity of his orgasm, Greg couldn’t even open his eyes. When Grissom moved against him, it was almost too much. He pulled away. Felt the sticky slide of Grissom’s cock withdrawing. He collapsed on the bed, listening to the sound of Grissom getting up, maybe throwing the condom away. He opened his eyes and looked at the wall in front of him. The tidy room. The bedspread.

Grissom returned and spooned up behind him. “Okay?” He laid one hand on Greg’s hip, rubbing slow circles.

Greg tried to speak, but only a croaky sound came out. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He could still feel where Grissom had been inside him. The handcuffs clinked softly as he adjusted his position.

“I left the keys in the kitchen,” Grissom said, but he didn’t move.

“Who needs keys? I know how to get these things off.”

“I’ll leave them on, then.”

Greg tried to look over his shoulder to see Grissom, but Grissom inched away, guiding Greg onto his back. He had a strange look on his face, one Greg had never seen before. Now that they were lying together, calm after the storm, Greg remembered the somewhat deceptive way he’d gotten there. He’d have to tell Grissom eventually because Grissom would ask about the experiment and want to know if his suspect’s alibi was solid.

“I have a confession,” Greg said, staring at the ceiling.

Grissom didn’t prompt him for the confession, and Greg didn’t look to him for a response.

“I didn’t take that pill. I mean, I took it, but I spit it out. I didn’t want to get some weird foot fungus again, and you’re always only telling me half the facts. I figured I was safer not taking it. And then Sara told me about the case you’re working, and what the guy’s alibi was, so I — I faked it.” He finally let himself glance at Grissom.

“I know, Greg,” Grissom said, smirking.

“You know? How did you know?”

“Do you really think I’d give you a drug whose provenance I knew nothing about? It was a test. I wanted to see what you’d do. I knew you’d be suspicious after what I did to your foot.”

“What? What the hell did you give me, then?” Greg sat up with some effort.

“Aspirin.”

“Aspirin? What the fuck? You sly dog!” Grissom had planned the whole fucking thing just to get him in bed! That was…genius. His hands still cuffed, Greg twisted around to reach for a pillow. He walloped Grissom with it.

Grissom grabbed the pillow and pushed Greg down onto his back. “How is your foot, by the way?” He turned onto his stomach and inched over to Greg’s feet, peering at the soles.

Greg shoved at Grissom’s cheek with his toes. “That rash was disgusting!”

Grissom grabbed Greg’s foot with one hand, and kissed the arch. “It’s better now,” he said.

 _the end_

**Author's Note:**

> The lines Grissom quotes are from Song of Solomon (NRSV).


End file.
